Lust Is the Thorn (17 page)

It had been three weeks since I'd walked out of Rose's apartment, out of her life, and we hadn't spoken since. Even though she'd made it quite clear that she needed me to go away, to take my vows and live my life, I hadn't done so yet. When I'd gone to Father John and confessed to kissing her again, he'd made me take a month to think about whether or not I truly wanted to become a priest. Part of me had expected him to kick me out of the program, to point out I clearly wasn't made for this life.

Instead, he'd told me to think about it.

And then he'd removed me from Saint Paul's.

So, literally, all I'd been doing for three weeks was
thinking
. And thinking. And thinking some more. And yet? I'd gotten no answers. No burst of insight that told me I was ready to take those vows. I wanted to be a priest. I did.
But something was holding me back
.

And that something was Rose.

When she'd asked me to leave, I'd felt pain the likes which I hadn't felt since I'd lost Mikey. But at the same time, I knew she was right. The way we'd been leaning on each other, and the time we'd spent together, had been inappropriate for my lifestyle.

Hence my time-out from Father John.

Once I'd gone to confession and cleared my conscience, I was even able to admit that leaving her was for the better, like she'd said, and I fully expected distance to help me forget about her, and what we'd done, and what I wanted. Like she said.

But I'd been wrong.

Nothing made me forget, and nothing made this easier, and that's what made the fact that she was moving on without me even harder. The few times I'd seen her had been at a distance, but she seemed happy. Light. Free. As if she had already moved on without me and was fulfilling her promises to be happy. Which was good. Great. Fantastic.

Because I wanted her to be happy.

I did
.

But I wanted
me
to be happy, too. And it wasn't
working
. Nothing was. I was starting to think nothing ever would. Even if I became a priest, and fulfilled my dreams, and took care of Rose from a distance, like Mikey would have wanted, I would still feel a void inside of me where Rose should have been. Where she was still supposed to
be
. And I didn't know what to do with that.

Organ music played, and I shook myself out of my thoughts. I'd attended the late-afternoon mass, hoping it would clear my head of thoughts of Rose, and instead it had implanted them even more firmly. Instead of focusing on the Holy Spirit and God, I'd focused on what I couldn't have. What I shouldn't want.

Rose Gallagher.

Lines formed for the procession out of the church and I stood solemnly, nodding to a classmate who sat across from me in the wooden pews. He was as pale as I was tan, and his blondness was in stark contrast to my almost black hair. But even so, he looked just as lost as I was. We were the last two men in our class. The only ones who hadn't taken our vows yet. It made me wonder if he'd been put in a time-out for the same reason I had. And if he regretted being put there, because I didn't.

I couldn't regret Rose.

He walked up to me, shrugging into his jacket as he approached. “Hey. How's it going, Thorn?”

“Great.” I tugged on my clerical collar and smiled. “Looks like you had the same idea as me. Looking for guidance in the place where it's supposed to be easiest to find it.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Robert rubbed his jaw and eyed me over his fingers. “Did it work for you?”

Well, if God was trying to tell me I belonged with Rose, then yeah, it worked. But if the message was supposed to be to stay the course and not give up…“Nope. You?”

“Yeah. I think I know my choice now.” He let out a sigh of relief, and it was like the weight of the world came off him right in front of me. “I'm ready.”

“That's great,” I said with forced cheerfulness, clapping him on the back. “Drinks later in McGarrey's to celebrate?”

“Sure,” Robert said, grinning even wider. “I'd love that.”

He walked off, his steps lighter.

Despite my happiness for him, I envied him. He was so sure, and he'd gotten the answer he sought, while all I got was more uncertainty. Checking the time, I headed outside and made my way over to the admissions office, stopping far enough away that I wouldn't be seen. I wanted to see for myself how she was doing. From a distance, of course.

Without her knowing.

I just needed to
see
her for a second, even if she'd never know. Watch her smile light up her face. Maybe hear her voice as she spoke to someone she hadn't asked to leave her alone. If I really lucked out, she'd bless me with her musical laughter. As if on cue, she walked out of her office with a coworker at her side—a male one.

She wore a gray wool coat, a knit gray hat, and a pair of black slacks. She laughed at something he said, loud and clear, and he puffed out his chest with pride in response. As she tucked her hair behind her ear, she peeked up at him through her lashes. I was close enough to hear her say, “You're too much.”

“It's true.” The man rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing. She glanced down at it, but didn't pull free. “You're performing wonderfully.”

“Thanks. It means a lot to hear that.”

“Good,” the man said, letting her go. He stepped back and smoothed his hand over his slim stomach, clearing his throat. He was clearly gathering up the nerve to say something, and I was 99 percent certain I wasn't going to like whatever it was. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she said, shoving her purse strap past her shoulder more firmly as she smiled fleetingly at him. “What's up?”

“Do you like music?” the man blurted out.

She laughed a little. “Well, yeah. Of course. Do you?”

“I mean, like, musicals? Because I have tickets to see a show tonight, and my friend canceled last minute, and I was hoping…”

He didn't finish, so Rose took pity on him. “I'd go?”

“Y-yes,” the man said, his cheeks red. “Would you like to? Go? With me?”

“Uhh…” It was almost painful to watch. This guy wasn't her type, and we both knew it. She went for tattooed men who broke hearts left and right and would never want to settle down. But she smiled and I froze, unable to believe what I was seeing. “What time?”

Wait. What?

“I could pick you up at six-thirty,” the man said in a rush.

“That sounds like fun.” She patted his arm. “I can't wait.”

The man brightened. “Great! See you then! Want me to walk you to the L? Or give you a ride home?”

She smiled again. “No, I'm good on my own, thanks.” The man left, and she watched him go, still smiling. She seemed…
happy
. It wasn't fair. Smile fading, she turned my way—and, of course, saw me immediately. “Thorn?”

I stiffened, wishing I hadn't come by after all, and stepped forward, shoving my hands into my pockets. I'd let myself become so distracted by her reaction to the man that I'd forgotten to actually, you know, leave. So I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You took your lip ring out.”

She touched her mouth. “Yeah. It seemed a little too risqué for a seminary office, you know? Besides, that was from the old me. I didn't want it anymore. I'm trying to fit in with the rest of the office. Be a little more boring, and all that.”

She could never be boring. I frowned at the spot where it had been, missing it already. “Are you keeping the nose stud?”
Say yes. Please say yes.

“For now.” She shrugged. “We'll see how it goes.”

“You don't have to change for them, they like you the way you are.”
So do I
.

“I've heard great things about you.”

“Really?”

Nodding, I glared at her date as he walked away. “He seems…nice.”

“Yeah. That's because he is.” She hugged herself and came closer to me, her hair blowing into her face. “He's a perfect gentleman. Brings me Starbucks every day even though I never ask for it.”

I choked on words that wanted to escape but weren't allowed, and forced a grin. “That's
great
. I'm happy to hear that. So happy.”

“Yeah…” She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her neck. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you. I didn't mean to—”

“I don't mean
here
here.” She scrunched her nose up. “I mean why are you still here at school, instead of at a parish being a priest?”

Her “date” was watching us as he walked away, his brow furrowed. He seemed like a nice guy. Like he might actually treat Rose well, which was a good thing.

I hated him already.

“Oh.” I rubbed the back of my neck and rocked back on my heels, trying my best to ignore the urge I had to pull her into my arms in front of that other guy and kiss her until we both forgot why we weren't supposed to want each other anymore. “Father John wanted me to take a month to think over my options, once I told him about our second kiss. I'm effectively in the time-out chair for another week.”

She choked on a laugh. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. It's fine. It's good, actually.” I scratched my head and rolled back to being flat on my feet. “I've been thinking a lot. Praying a lot.”

“Good.” She tucked her hair behind her ear again. “Get any answers?”

“Not the ones I was expecting.”

“What does that mean?” she asked softly.

“Are you seriously going out with that guy?” I asked, laughing again. “I think we both know he's not exactly your type.”

“That's why I said yes.” She held on tighter to her purse strap. “Turns out, I have a new type, along with this new life. I'm done with men who don't treat me right. I would rather be alone than be with one of them ever again. You showed me I deserve more than your typical run-of-the-mill asshole.”

Guess I should be proud of that. I'd managed to get her in a new place, with a new job and a healthy new outlook on life, before I took my vows. “Good. You deserve every kindness in the world.”

“So do you,” she said softly.

We stared at each other, neither of us speaking. After a few moments of awkward silence, she pointed over her shoulder. “I should get going. I have to get ready.”

“For your hot date,” I said cheerfully, forcing that stupid grin to remain in place. It made me want to stab myself in the eye. “With him.”

“Yeah.” She frowned at me. “For my date.”

“I'm happy for you.” I smiled wider. “Really happy, Rose.”

Her mouth pinched in at the corners. “I'll be happy for you once you come tell me you took your vows. Like you promised.”

I don't want to take my damn vows. I want you.
And it wasn't until I let myself think that, until I finished that thought, that I realized how true those words were. Rubbing my jaw, I stared at her, not speaking. Not sure
what
to say.

“Good.” She stepped back. “Well, it was nice seeing—”

“I miss you,” I said quickly, catching her wrist. Her pulse leapt under my fingers. “So much.”

She swallowed hard. “I miss you, too.”

“You look great. Happy.”

“I'm not,” she admitted. “I'm trying, though.”

I tried to ignore the selfish relief that punched me in the gut. “Yeah. Me, too.”

She didn't say anything at first. “You will be happy, once you're out of time-out. Once you take your vows.”

“Yeah.” I let go of her wrist. “Sure.”

“I should get going.” She stepped backward again. “I have to get ready.”

“Have fun tonight.” I lifted a hand and waved. “Wear that red dress you got at the mall for your birthday party last year. He'll love it. You look good in red.”

She eyed me oddly. “Okay.”

I watched her hips swing as she walked away, and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to follow her, grab her, and demand she wear red for
me,
not some other guy. I ached to ask her to stop telling me to give my life away to a church and ask me instead to give my life to her just
one
time. To demand that I love her back.

If she asked…

Could I deny her something she wanted?

Even in church, when I was praying to be moved by the Holy Spirit, she was on my mind. Growling low in my throat, I glared up at the sky. “Mikey, I don't know what to do here, man. Is it wrong to want her instead of the life I chose? Is it wrong to walk away from all the souls I could save because mine is being pulled in a different direction?” I glanced up at the stormy sky, and a flake of snow landed on my nose. “Tell me what to
do,
asshole.”

A woman brushed past me, shooting my clerical collar an incredulous look when she heard my muttered words. I smirked and crossed myself, not breaking eye contact. The woman blushed and shook her head at me, clearly unimpressed. Once she'd gone over the hill and I could no longer see her, I headed for the pub. I wasn't due to meet Robert for another hour, but there was nothing stopping me from getting a head start.

Maybe with a few drinks in me, I could finally get some answers.

And maybe I'd finally stop needing Rose.

Later that night, Chris walked me to my door. The moon shone down on the fresh snow, making it appear almost magical and romantic, and the wind had died down, leaving a quiet stillness in the air. The night was beautiful, and Chris was a wonderful companion. He'd been nothing but a kind, generous, gracious gentleman all night. Even now, I held on to his arm as he led me up the walkway toward my door.

Tonight had been perfectly…well, perfect.

Chris was great. Everything a girl could want. But I'd been so in love that I couldn't breathe, or think. I knew happiness so bright it hurt. I'd screamed and cried and mourned the loss of that love, but that didn't mean I was over it, or that I ever would be. When it came down to it, Chris would never be Thorn.

And I was bored out of my mind.

He stopped in front of my door and smiled down at me. “I had a lovely night.”

“Me, too. It was a great play,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. I patted his chest and stepped back. “Thank you for seeing me to my door, too. You're very kind.”

His smile faltered. “Anytime, Rose. If you ever need anything, just let me know. I'll be here for you.”

“Thank you.” Rising up on tiptoe, I kissed his pale cheek. It was smooth under my lips, freshly shaven. Thorn's was always rough and stubbly. “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure.” He squeezed my hand once. “Good night.”

I watched him walk away, then opened my door and shut it behind me, sliding the lock. After taking a deep breath, I climbed the stairs. I kicked off my heels and reached for the light switch, wanting nothing more than a glass of wine and a hot—

“Did you have fun?” a deep, dark voice asked from the corner of my living room.

I jumped and gasped, pressing a hand to my chest, and collapsed against the wall. “Jesus, Thorn. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.” He didn't stand. Just leaned forward on the couch. His shadow seemed almost menacing, considering how angry he sounded. “Answer my question.”

“I don't see how my date, and any fun I might have had, is any of your business.” I took my coat off and hung it on the coatrack I'd bought for five bucks at Goodwill the other day. Bringing it home on the L had been challenging, to say the least. “What are you doing in my apartment, sitting in the dark, waiting for me?”

“None of your business,” he shot back.

“Well, actually—”

“I was waiting here for you to make sure you got home safe,” he interrupted, his words slurring together. “That the guy in the plaid shirt and khakis isn't a Jeffrey Dahmer in disguise.”

“He isn't.” I jingled my keys before I set them down. “And even if he was, I had my pepper spray this time. I carry it with me now.”

“Good.” He leaned back against the couch cushion. “Did you use it on him when he tried to kiss you?”

“No.”

“Did he try to kiss you?” he asked, his tone harder than steel.

And just as cold.

“No.” I stepped closer to him, eyeing him as best as I could, considering the lack of light in this room. I could flip the switch, but seeing him didn't make it easier to send him away. It made it harder. “Not that it's any of your business.”

“But you see, it is.”

I shook my head and took another step. “No. Not really. And what happened to you staying away? This is twice in one day.”

“I can't stay away,” he slurred. “I think it's time I stop trying. When it comes to you, resistance is futile. Staying away from you is like trying to stay away from myself. It's just not possible.”

“What? That doesn't make any—” I blinked at him. “Oh my God, you're drunk.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

I crossed my arms. “That's why you're here. You're drunk, and lonely, so you came looking for me because you're horny. For a booty call.”

He didn't say anything to that. He didn't need to. “Do you like him?”

“Go home, Thorn.”

He stood unsteadily. “Does he make you want to touch yourself, like you did in the bath that day?”

A wave of heat rushed through me, making me blush and tremble.
He's drunk. He doesn't know what he's saying.
“Stop it. Stop talking like that.”

“I think about that all the time. Every night. Every morning. Pretty much every second of every day.” He reached up and tugged on his collar. He tossed his clerical white strip aside like it meant nothing, when we both knew it meant everything. “I want to watch you do it again, only this time, I want to do more than watch. This time, I want to help.” He started unbuttoning his shirt, one at a time, and walked toward me. “I'm done pretending I don't want you anymore. Done fighting what's staring me right in the face. Done trying to be something I don't think I can be. Not anymore.”

My stomach dropped. I swallowed a moan. “Stop unbuttoning your shirt. It's too cold outside to walk home without a shirt.”

“That's okay, because I'm already home.”

I lifted my chin. “I refuse to be your go-to gal when abstinence isn't working in your favor. I'm not a booty call.”

“I know you're not,” he said softly. “You're the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

I sucked in a deep breath, because as much as I wanted to hear those words, I didn't. He needed to continue with his life—without me. “You don't mean that. You're just drunk.”

“I'm not drunk, I'm being honest.” He took another step toward me. One more, and we'd be in each other's arms. “I can't stop thinking about that day in the bath, no matter how hard I try. The way you slid your hand between your thighs and ran your fingers over your pussy was like art. It was the hottest thing I've ever seen. And when you wrapped your lips around my—”

Heat rushed through my veins.
“Stop.”

“—around my cock and took me in your mouth, when you brought me to orgasm, I saw heaven. I know that's probably sacrilegious, but I don't care. It's true. You brought me to heaven.” He covered his cock with his hand and gave me the dirtiest, sexiest look I've ever seen. “I want to go back. I need more.”

I held a hand out, stopping his approach. His hard chest against my hand taunted me. “I'm home, safe and sound. Your duties have been fulfilled. You can go home now, and sleep off the booze.”

“I wish it was that easy. I wish I could walk away from you and never look back. I tried. It didn't work.” He splayed a hand across my lower back and hauled me into his arms. His shirt was off, so all I felt was bare skin. I braced both hands on his pecs, gasping at the skin-on-skin contact. “I really did.”

“So keep trying,” I said, even though what I really wanted to say was
Fuck me now
. “Harder.”

“Why bother? You want me, too. I can feel it in your quick breaths. Your hard nipples. Your wet pussy.” He observed me with hooded lids, sliding his hand between my thighs. “The way you keep saying no, but pull me closer, because we both know you don't really mean it. Because we both want each other so badly, it's a crime to ignore it.”

I glanced down. Sure enough, I was tugging him toward me by the biceps. I let go immediately. “Okay, yes, fine. I want you. I've got no reason to deny it.”

My resistance was melting more and more by the second. Soon, it would be nothing but a puddle at my feet. I pressed a hand to my chest, my heart racing from the words he'd said. The way he was looking at me. Everything. “Thorn…”

“I'll give you anything you want, Rose.” He lowered his face to mine. “The stars. The moon. The sun. Whatever you want, it's yours. It's all yours,” he said, skimming his nail over my nipple. Even through my shirt, it sent waves of desire crashing through me. “I need you, Rose. I choose
you
. I want
you
. I need
you
. Touch me. Love me. Be mine, Rose.”

Well, crap. I couldn't resist him when he said things like that. It made me wonder if he knew it. If he knew how powerless I was when he told me he needed me. I'd never been
needed
before. Never had anyone who begged for my touch.

I lifted my face to his, and without hesitation, his mouth melded with mine. Every single argument I had in my mind faded away, until all that remained was the ever-present need. To assuage the aching void inside of me with one more night in his arms, even if that made me the most selfish person to ever walk the earth. I was okay with that.

Growling, he swept me up into his arms and carried me into my room. I'd finally purchased a metal frame and a real mattress last week. He gently laid me down on it, his lips never leaving mine as he settled on top of me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he pumped his hips against me, hitting my clit with his hard cock.

Moaning, I ran my hands down his pecs and around to grip his ass, digging my nails into the fabric. He did it again, brushing against me in places that only I had touched since that night we were together. He broke off the kiss and buried his face in my neck, his hand sliding down the curve of my hip and under the hem of my red dress. “I was right. The red dress looks sexy on you. But next time, I want you to wear it for me, not some other dude.”

“I did,” I admitted, and bit my tongue. “I wore it because you told me to. In my head, I dressed for you.”

“Rose…my sweet Rose.” He traced an invisible path up my inner thigh, teasing the edges of my thong. “I need another taste.”

Without another word, he sank down my body, gripped my thighs roughly, and shoved them apart with a harsh push before burying his head between my legs. His breath fanned over my heated flesh, making my heart race and my muscles weaken. When he bit my thigh, nipping the skin, I gasped and threaded both hands through his hair, holding on tight.
“Thorn.”

He ran his tongue over the bite, then over the thin fabric of my underwear. It was like heaven and hell, all wrapped up in one, because I knew this was wrong and I should stop him, but there was no way I was actually going to
do
so. I turned off my mind and lost myself in his touch, refusing to think about another thing.

I'd done enough thinking to last me a lifetime.

Grabbing the front of my flimsy thong, he yanked it, tearing it in two. I gasped and gripped the comforter underneath me, my heart racing and my mouth drying out. Without a word, he slipped his hands under my ass, lifted me higher, and rolled his tongue over me. And I stopped breathing.

Stopped everything.

I closed my thighs on his head, keeping him where I wanted him, and let my lids drift shut. His fingers bit into the back of my thigh and ass, stinging enough to add to the pleasure, and I gasped as he scraped his teeth over me roughly, rolling my hips against his mouth wildly as he fucked me with his tongue.

“Thorn—oh my God, yes. Harder. More.
Yes
.”

He growled in reply and deepened the strokes of his tongue, holding me so tightly it hurt. Every jab and push sent me closer to the edge, and I buried my hands in his hair, holding on for dear life as I soared over it. The second I fell off that mountain, he was between my legs again, yanking his zipper down with an unsteady hand.

With one smooth, sure stroke, he was buried inside of me. We both froze, staring at each other. Something unspoken moved across his face, something I couldn't name, and he brushed his lips across mine. “I should have said it before, and I didn't, but I am now. I've never said this before, to anyone, but I can't hold it back anymore. I love you, Rose. I love you so much it hurts. I love you. I love you.
I love you
.”

Happiness filled me at his words, but more than that, sadness. Tears stung my eyes, because the moment was so perfect, so right, that it hurt. It ripped my heart out and tore it to shreds. He'd finally said those words I'd waited to hear for my whole life, but it didn't change anything. He still wasn't mine to keep.

“I love you, too,” I whispered, smiling through my looming tears.

His face lit up, and he kissed me tenderly.

He moved inside of me, and I knew that no matter how wrong this might be, we loved each other, and love is never wrong. How could it be? We were a part of each other, as much as we were ourselves, and nothing would ever change that.

No vows. No jobs. No promises.

He moved his hips, pushing me higher and higher until I was sure I would burst from the pleasure of him buried inside me, with nothing separating us. This time was different from the last. It was more tender. More
emotional
. Like he was making an unspoken promise to cherish me forever. And, God, I wanted that to be true.

The faster he moved, the higher I climbed, and when he bit my shoulder, his breath coming in spurts, I came harder than the last time we'd been together, which should have stopped my heart from the pleasure he made me feel. Instead, it just left behind that same aching void I sought to fill. I loved him. He loved me.

It
hurt
.

He collapsed on top of me, his breathing still uneven, and rolled over, his hand pressed against his flat stomach. “I love you, Rose. I love you.”

He kept repeating the words like he couldn't believe them and had to reassure himself, and me, that it was true. That he meant it. I didn't say anything. I wasn't capable of it. All my strength was going into not crying.

He rolled over again, covering my body with his, not commenting on my silence. “You have no idea how freeing it is to say that out loud. To admit it to myself, and you, and anyone else who cares. I love you, and nothing will make me stop. Ever. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Cherishing you. Holding you. Protecting you”—he let out a small laugh—“even though you don't need it. I
know
you don't. Don't kill me for saying this, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to do it anyway. You make me happy, Rose. I never thought I'd be happy again. Not after Mikey. But I am. Because of you.”